Raining You
by asphaltcowgrrl
Summary: From a prompt I've held onto forever from the CL Meme on LJ: Travis and Wes have an affair while Wes is still married to Alex. It was left to the author to decide if it was a one time thing or recurring. I went with the obvious choice. What? You think I'm going to tell you which I think is obvious and ruin the surprise? Hah.
1. Chapter 1

"_I was steeped in denial, but my body knew." ― Suzanne Finnamore, Split: A Memoir of Divorce_

Rain pelted the windshield as he carefully parked the SUV in front of Travis' trailer. He'd insisted on bringing his partner home, telling him that he'd not be responsible for his annoying ass being splattered all over the freeway because he'd let him ride his motorcycle home in this weather. He actually had an ulterior motive in all this when he had asked, but his courage was fast failing him and he was suddenly unsure of whether he could go through with it or not after all.

Wes shut the vehicle down but didn't unbuckle or otherwise make a move to get out. Travis let go of the seatbelt and it retracted loudly in the silence. He watched Wes curiously, like he was a lab experiment ready to yield some exciting results. "You okay man?"

"Yeah, of course," Wes spluttered, trying to drag his thoughts back to the present. "Anyway, I'll be back at seven o'clock sharp tomorrow morning. Be ready."

He figured that was enough of a hint to get Travis out of his passenger's seat but his partner hadn't budged. His blue-grey eyes were solidly fixed on his own.

"You're full of shit," Travis said.

"I am not," Wes lied. "It's the weather. I need to get home before Alex starts worrying."

Travis studied him for a moment, considering his words. "Nope, not buying it," Travis decided. "You made this funny face when you said Alex's name which makes me think something's up. Spill."

Wes leaned back away from his partner and pulled a disbelieving face. "What makes you think something's up? Alex and I are fine."

He shrugged as well as one could in the confines of the front seat. "If you say so, but your body language is saying otherwise. One last chance before I get out of the car – you wanna talk about it?"

"No, I told you, she and I are good." Wes willed his face to not betray him.

"Okay, man, if you insist." The tone in Travis' voice made it plain that he didn't believe him.

He had one foot out the door when Wes changed his mind. "Okay, okay, I – I need to talk. Travis, please, don't get out."

Pulling his foot back inside, Travis closed the car door and looked at his partner, concern etched on his face. "Do you want to do this here? Or would you like to come inside?"

Wes shook his head. "I've already lost my nerve three times this week. If we get out of this car, I might just lose it again. I need to get this out before I change my mind."

Travis frowned, it wasn't a good look on him. His mouth was made for smiling, all thick lips and white teeth. "Okay man, I've got my ears on. Start talking."

Wes watched as Travis reached over and turned down the radio, focusing his attention completely on him. It was unusual to be the object of Travis' consideration. Generally, he only gave him this much in the middle of a case. He would take it though, because it had come without even the slightest hint of an insult or joke.

"I lied," he began, not knowing quite where he should start in all this mess. "Alex and I, we're not okay."

"How not okay are you two?" He leaned in closer, resting a hand on the center console. "I know she's not happy with your decision to become a cop but… well, I thought she'd gotten over it enough to deal."

He shook his head, unsure of how to put it into words. "She's not ever going to get over it, Travis. She's – she's determined to get me back into law. And I just can't."

Travis sat back in his seat, watching Wes' face. While Wes greatly appreciated his willingness to listen, he half hoped he would break in with some kind of joke and ease the anxiety he felt building in his chest. "I think she wants to end it," he whispered.

"What?" Travis grimaced. "Sorry. That was a little loud."

"Just a little." A tiny smile crept onto his face.

"What makes you think she wants a divorce," Travis asked quietly, almost as if saying it out loud would make it real.

Wes shrugged, trying for nonchalance and failing miserably. "She's started sleeping in the guest room."

Travis visibly deflated at the news. "Aw, man, I'm so sorry. That's never good."

"No," he choked, "it's not. But what do I do?"

"I don't know, Wes, I really don't know." Travis reached between them and took his hand. Giving it a squeeze, he brought Wes' gaze back to him. "Because, really. Look who you're asking."

Wes laughed despite himself. "You have a point there."

"Tell you what. Come inside with me for a bit. We can have a beer, you can calm down before going home. How's that sound?"

"Actually, it sounds like a good idea. Mind if I call her first? She does still worry, even if she doesn't like me much these days." It came out more self-deprecating than he had intended, but it brought a sympathetic smile to his partner's face.

"Yeah, of course. Tell her I said 'hi'." Travis gave his hand another squeeze before letting go. "I'll meet you inside."

Wes nodded, watching him get out of the car and run to the door of his trailer. He called Alex, making it quick and perfunctory, not having the desire to make small talk. Just the facts – the rain was coming down too hard, he and Travis were holing up at the station for a bit.

Okay, so maybe not _just _the facts.

Travis grabbed two beers from the fridge and set them on the little table in the kitchen. In frustration, he ran his hands angrily through his hair. How could Alex do this to Wes? Especially after all this time together. The woman was insane if she thought she could find a better husband than Wes. He'd be the first to admit that Wes was far from perfect, but he was a damn good man. Everything he did only happened after careful consideration of all the facts. The most irrational decision he'd ever made had been to leave law and become a cop. And honestly, if you asked him, that wasn't all that irrational of a decision.

He started at the sound of his door opening. Lost in his mental ranting, he'd forgotten he'd asked Wes to join him for a bit. "You startled me," he chuckled, handing his partner a beer.

"Thanks," Wes said, accepting the drink and taking a long pull from the bottle. "I don't usually drink beer, but tonight, that tastes good."

Raising his bottle in salute, he agreed. "Some nights, nothing goes down better than a good brew." A wicked grin crossed his face. "Or a pretty girl, am I right?"

"Can't say that I'd know these days," he sighed, dropping into a chair at the table. Making a face, he apologized. "Sorry. Didn't mean to say that out loud."

"It's all good," Travis deflected the apology, holding one hand up to stop anything further. "Trust me, been there, gone through that."

"Not me," he admitted, "or, not really, I guess. I've been with Alex for so long, that I don't even remember those 'dating days'."

"You got together in college, didn't you?" Travis lifted the bottle to his lips, taking a gulp.

Wes nodded. "We did. Married shortly after graduation. I'm not sure what life would look like without her."

"Here's to hoping you don't have to find out," Travis said. He didn't believe his words. From the sounds of it, their marriage had hit the rocks hard. "Want another?"

He looked at his nearly empty bottle for a moment before tipping it up and swallowing the last of the amber liquid. When his eyes met Travis', he could see the emotion sparking behind them. "Hit me one more time, bartender."

"Just so long as you promise not to go dancing on my counters, okay?" He gave the blond a flirty wink.

Wes gave him a cocky smile in return. "See, you're just saying that because you _want_ me to dance on your counters."

Travis laughed heartily. "Ya got me there, baby. Another round?"

"Another round."

Wes wasn't sure when they'd finished the beer and moved on to the tequila, but he hadn't been this drunk since… well, ever. Vaguely, he remembered Travis calling Alex telling her that he wasn't letting Wes drive home in this rain and was making him stay in his trailer. Alex had been confused, thinking they were still at the station like Wes had told her earlier. In true Marks fashion, Travis had concocted a story she'd believed about dodging raindrops until they'd made it here, and then the heavens had opened up on them again.

He was going to be in so much trouble in the morning. She was going to be _pissed_.

"We need a bed," Travis announced from right beside Wes' ear.

"This is your place, you forget where it was?" Wes laughed at his little joke.

"Naw, I know exactly where it is, baby." He took hold of Wes' arm and hauled him to the bed. Wobbling, he fell backwards onto the mattress, pulling the blond along with him. "See, found it."

Wes toppled onto his partner's chest, laughing like the drunken fool he was. "I see," he said, snuggling against Travis' body. "You're so warm."

"And you smell like heaven," Travis whispered, kissing the top of his head.

"Mmmph," Wes murmured in appreciation before properly passing out.

Cracking one eye, he looked around the room. "Urgh," he complained, lifting Travis' arm off his middle. What the hell, Marks."

Travis rolled onto his side, rubbing his eyes with a fist. "Not sure, but I think we got a little drunk last night."

"Ya think?" Wes' sarcasm was palpable. "God, Alex is going to kill me when I get home."

"No, she won't. I called her last night, remember? Or did I?" He scratched his head, thinking.

"You did," he said, stretching. "But she has to know I was avoiding her now."

A weight landed on Travis' chest as the reason for their little impromptu party last night flashed back to him. "Shit man, I'm sorry. This really is my fault, I shouldn't have brought out the tequila."

Wes placed a hand on a dark-skinned arm. "It's no one's fault but my own. And honestly? I needed that. I might be regretting it at the moment, but I needed to get all of that off my chest."

"And to forget for a few hours," Travis added, knowing the truth of it.

He also knew there was one other thing that his partner desperately needed. Something his wife had been denying him for too long. Travis wondered how Wes would react to his assumption, but he had to take the chance. It was about more than the obvious and he needed to show that to him.

Travis moved closer to Wes on the bed, draping an arm across his partner's waist. He could feel the heat rising off Wes' bare chest – when he'd stripped to his dress slacks, Travis didn't remember – and it was a wonderful feeling. Leaning forward, he gave Wes a chaste kiss, just lips pressing against lips, testing the waters.

Wes leaned back, slow and controlled, not the reactionary sort of backwards jerk he'd expected, a good sign. "What are you doing," he murmured.

"Kissing you," he stated plainly, moving in for another.

"But why?" Wes placed a hand against the heated skin covering Travis' brawny chest. Not pushing just resting.

"How long has it been since she's shown you any kind of affection?" Travis watched his partner's face contort, pain filing his eyes. "Not just sex, Wes, but actual affection?"

"Too long," he disclosed quietly. This time, he was the one that moved in for a kiss.


	2. Chapter 2

_When you love someone you don't hurt them on purpose, and cheating on someone isn't a mistake. – Sonya Parker_

Travis lowered Wes onto his back, drawing a hand down the middle of his chest. "We need to fix that," he murmured, nibbling on his ear.

Wes was unable to answer coherently. Travis' touch had him arching his back into his partner's fingers, prolonging the contact. It had been more than too long, but he'd been afraid to be quite that honest with him. Alex had shut him out emotionally right after he decided to leave law. It didn't take too much longer before she had shut him out physically as well. It was the one time he was thankful for the demands of the job, most times he didn't even have time to miss it.

Deft, dusky fingers lingered at Wes' waist, toying with the button on his pants, but not moving to undo them. Travis placed a kiss just behind the blond's ear. "You sure you want this, baby? I know how lonely you must be but…"

He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, forcing the words out past it. "Please. God, Travis, please."

It was all he needed to say, it seemed, because Travis made quick work of his pants, whisking them off his body before he could change his mind. Not that he would have. Wes knew what they were doing was wrong, that it was cheating and worse – it could possibly ruin their already fragile working relationship – but it had been so damn long since anyone had given him any kind of attention. How could he turn this down?

He'd always wondered about Travis' preferences. Despite the enormous line of women he'd run through during their time together, his partner was an incurable flirt. Didn't matter if you were male, female or somewhere in between. If he thought it would get him what he wanted, he turned on the charm. He'd long been envious of the fact that he was so good at it, too. Often, he'd wondered if he was as into men as he was women. Wes supposed this was his answer.

He pulled away from the kiss Travis had lured him into. "Travis, one question…"

"Uh-uh," he said, kissing him again, sliding his tongue along the ridge of Wes' perfectly straight teeth. "No questions, not now."

He pressed a hand against Travis' bare chest, insisting. "I have to know… am I your first?"

Travis pulled back, studying him. "My first?" His eyes widened and Wes could see the meaning of his words fit together in his head. "Oh, no baby, not quite."

Wes visibly relaxed, knowing the already capable hands caressing his body knew more than he thought they had. "Good."

Travis chuckled against Wes' chest. "Can't say I saw that one coming. Honestly figured you'd be more comfortable if you were."

Wes shook his head, grinning. "Not in this case. God only knows how long it'll be before someone touches me like this again. I don't want to waste my chance."

The sadness he saw in Wes' eyes was his undoing. This was his partner here, the man that kept him safe on the streets. The one that had always had his back, even when they weren't getting along. How could he have missed all this pain? He made a vow in that moment to be more aware.

Travis slid his hand along the length of Wes' cock. The blond bucked against his touch, groaning. He gripped him tightly, squeezing and massaging his erection. "Damn, baby," he sighed, teeth grazing one pink nipple. "You are so hard, and so fuckin' big. You've been holding out on me."

Wes chuckled, nervous and shy. "Now you're just flattering me. But keep doing it, I'm not about to complain." He lifted his hips into Travis' grip, savoring the feel of someone else's hand on his body.

"Oh hell no," he argued, "this is not flattery." He gave Wes a squeeze, drawing his attention downward. "Look at my hand. See how much of you doesn't fit? And let me tell you, blondie, I've got some damn big hands."

He looked and he watched. Travis couldn't take his eyes off his partner's face, didn't want to miss a second of his enjoyment. The way his eyes widened and then fluttered closed as he stroked and grasped his cock. Wes squeezed his eyes shut, his head fell back, and he sobbed out a single word – his name.

"Travis," he gasped, the word a strangled sound.

"Aw, baby, I know what that means," Travis' pleased snicker came from deep within his chest. He released his grip on Wes' cock and received a desperate, wordless complaint in response. "Just a minute, Mitchell, I won't leave you hanging for long."

He leaned over the side of the bed, dug around until he found the lube, a condom, and returned to Wes. Travis pressed his mouth to his partner's, sucking the boy's tongue into his mouth, savoring the early morning taste of him. Wes hungrily rubbed his aching cock against Travis' thigh, begging without words for satisfaction.

Releasing Wes' mouth, Travis put enough distance between them to catch his partner's gaze. "One last time," he said, seriousness lacing his every word. "You positive? 'Cause if you're not, I have no problems wrapping my mouth around that delicious cock of yours and sucking until you explode."

Wes' fingers curled in the bed sheets. He lifted his hips against Travis' ass again, emphasizing his words. "God damn you and your stubborn ass, _yes_."

"That's all I needed to hear," he growled, lifting off of his body long enough to dispose of his sweats.

Wes' heart leapt when Travis swung his leg off of him so he could undress fully. He must've found his sweatpants around the same time Wes had half-stripped last night. There was so much he didn't remember from those drunken hours, but thankfully, this was not going to be one of those things he wondered about. This, for better or for worse, was going to be forever burned in his memory.

Alex invaded his thoughts then, causing him to groan in frustration. The knowledge of her disapproval of everything that was happening here flooded him. Not just the cheating, but sex with another man, sex with his _partner _for crying out loud. All of it. The worst part was, he didn't think she'd even be angry if she found out. But she'd be disappointed and that was so much worse.

Travis laid a hand against his cheek causing him to open eyes he didn't know had been closed. "Stay with me baby, no thinking about anything outside this room. Too much time for that later."

He attacked Travis' mouth in gratitude, for pulling him back into the here and now, and out of the what might possibly occur in the future where he spent so much of his time these days. Surrendering to the moment, he allowed Travis to show him exactly why every female in the precinct flocked to claim his attention.

Wes had to admit, he finally got it. He actually understood the appeal of the man called Travis Marks.

"We have an hour," Travis told him, snuggling against his narrow back. "You going to go home?"

Wes shook his head as best he could, lying on his side like he was. "No, I keep a – a spare suit – at the station for emergencies. I'll change there. Deal with the fallout tonight when… never mind."

"When you've had time to rationalize it all away." The hurt he heard in Travis' voice clawed at his insides.

"Travis, no," he begged, not wanting to fight, not now. "That's not what I meant. You can't tell me this hasn't left you a little confused."

He nuzzled his nose into that little sweet spot he'd found earlier with his teeth – that spot where Wes' neck met his collar bone. "Not even a little. I know what I want and I go after it."

"Does that mean you wanted… me?" Wes tried to look up at his partner – his _lover_ – and couldn't because he was currently licking a patch of pale skin.

"Mmm-hmm," he murmured against his shoulder.

"Why didn't you ever say anything," he asked, fingers toying with the fine hairs on Travis' forearm.

He nipped at the skin he'd been teasing with his tongue. "Because you were married," he stated. "And I may be a lot of things, but I'm not a home wrecker."

"Newsflash, Marks, I'm still married."

Travis lifted his head and kissed Wes on his cheek. Reaching out, he took Mitchell's left hand in his, thumb rubbing against the golden band on his ring finger. "I know, but it's not the same now, is it?"

He pulled away from the blond, prompting a growl of displeasure from him. Wes rolled onto his back and looked up at Travis. "Where are you going?"

"If you want to get to the station – and get inside before anyone we know sees you in yesterday's suit – you might want to leave soon." He slipped off the other side of the bed and grabbed his pants from the floor.

Wes' blue eyes locked onto his. "Can't we just stay here all morning?"

A grin tugged at Travis' mouth. "What is it you always say to me when I suggest we knock off early? 'Travis, crime doesn't take the afternoon off' is what I usually hear."

"You can be such a dick, did you know that?" They both knew he'd deserved that, however.

"If I remember correctly, you seemed to quite enjoy that about me this morning." He winked lasciviously and disappeared into the bathroom.

"I hate you," he glowered, throwing a pillow in the direction his partner had disappeared.

"But I loooooove you," Travis called back.

Wes had made sure he was sitting at his desk, eyeball deep in their current case, when Travis arrived at the station that morning. Travis had been considerate enough to arrive late, as always, so no one became suspicious. Or so he said. Wes would bet money that the real reason was that Travis had fallen back to sleep after he'd left.

Heaven only knew, he'd love a nap right about now.

He'd had four messages from Alex by the time he'd gotten out of the shower and another by the time he'd dressed in his spare suit and tie. Wes was terrified of what she might say when he called her back, so he put her off for as long as he reasonably could. Swallowing his pride, he sat on a bench in the empty locker room and called, knowing that if he waited any longer, she was coming to find him. As predicted, she'd been pissed, but thankful he hadn't been washed away with the storm.

Wes felt like a jerk for what he'd done to her, but he hadn't intended on letting his partner get him wasted, either. A ghost of a smile flickered across his face then, remembering how Travis' eyes had lit up when he'd uncovered the bottle of tequila. God, he knew better, but something inside him had been unable to resist. Looking at his watch, he realized that the shifts were about to change and he needed to be at his desk. He needed to distract himself so he didn't do something embarrassing when Travis arrived.

He supposed it was a good thing that Travis was so adept at pretending like nothing ever happened the morning after something clearly had happened. Lord knew he had enough practice at it. Wes, on the other hand, not so much. If he could keep it together long enough to get them both out of the station, they'd be fine. Travis would talk him off the ledge he was on and they'd be fine.

Right?

"Good morning, glory," Travis called, dropping into his desk chair, million dollar smile firmly in place.

The laughter surprised him when it emerged. Seeing Travis all bright eyed and bushy tailed had that effect on him it seemed. "Morning Marks."

"Find something we missed yesterday?" He motioned to the case file on Wes' desk.

He was taking pity on Wes and diving right into the case – he would have to thank him for that later. A flush of heat infused his cheeks at the thought of _thanking _him. Horrified, he quickly grabbed the case file and opened it, praying Travis hadn't noticed. "No, but I think I know where we need to start today. Miss LaJean Spencer, cousin to the victim."

"Got an address? Good, let's go." Travis stood, waiting on his partner.

Maybe he could get through this first day unscathed after all.


	3. Chapter 3

"_A poet never takes notes. You never take notes in a love affair." – Robert Frost_

They hadn't intended for it to continue. One and done had always been Travis' motto. Don't let them get under your skin and they can't affect you, right? And then he started sleeping with his partner.

He hadn't expected Wes to get under his skin either. Although what he had said was true – he had wanted a piece of that fine detective's ass for a long time – he had figured once would be enough. Satisfy his curiosity and move on. As luck would have it, that's not quite the way it worked out. For either of them.

Wes was weird for a few weeks after their first tryst, but slowly he settled down and started acting like the old Wes Mitchell – officious and arrogant – right up until Alex hit him with her first ultimatum.

"She said what, exactly?" Travis looked to him for a response and waited.

They had stopped for coffee at Wes' behest that afternoon. It had been raining again and it made Travis' mind wander to things better left in the past. Sitting across from Wes in this deserted diner wasn't helping matters any either. His poor partner must think he was boring him with as much as he had to repeat things today.

He cocked his head, watching Travis intently. "Are you even listening to me, Marks?"

Travis hung his head, feeling guilty. After a furtive look around the empty diner, he reached across the table and took Wes' hand in his. Somehow, he always managed to take hold of his left one, the hand bearing the golden band he refused to take off, no matter how bad things got at home. "I'm sorry, man, but the rain and everything… I can't keep my mind off it."

They both knew what he meant by _it_. It had been a no-fly zone for them both since the day it had happened. Wes allowed him to hold his hand – on top of the table, in full view, even – after the admission. It was the only way he could let him know he understood. "She's told me I have six months to make a choice. Either I get back with the law firm or we're done. No exceptions."

To Travis he seemed to have tempered his emotions where Alex was concerned. He was resigned to the idea that their marriage was done and he wasn't sure if it had more to do with her laying down the law or just his reluctance to return to it. Whichever was the case, there wasn't any sentimental outburst or desperate pleadings like there had been the first time. Nothing more than the cold, hard facts, a signature of Detective Wesley Mitchell's interrogation technique.

"Ever thought of becoming a public defender?" It wasn't an ideal choice as it would still take Wes away from him, but it fit with Wes' need to see justice done.

He shook his head slowly. "She'd never go for that. They've been holding a place for me at the firm and going back to handling high-dollar clients is the only thing that will make her happy."

"And she doesn't care that it isn't what makes you happy," he added quietly.

"Nope," he replied, watching Travis' thumb run along the curve of his wedding band.

That was the second time Wes cheated on his wife.

They left the diner with to-go cups of steaming hot coffee. Coffee they'd lace with Kahlua once they made it back to Travis' place. Safely entrenched in the security of his trailer, they could be and do whatever worked best for them, the rest of the world be damned.

The alcohol eased his conscience, it was the only reason he allowed his partner to pour a measure into his coffee that afternoon. This new relationship between them frightened him significantly less than what would happen should Alex ever discover their secret. He had stopped caring about her feelings, but his reputation was still on the line and that meant something.

Not to mention that he and Travis would be separated if they were discovered and, even though he refused to even contemplate that outcome, it was lodged in his brain's worry center.

Only by leaning into his partner's touch could he escape the cacophony of whispering voices. His father's reminding him what a disappointment he'd been. His own asserting what a lousy lawyer he'd turned out to be. His temporary wife's demanding he change or lose her forever.

Travis' hand on his face, his lips on his neck, melted all those nagging ghosts into the background. Marks' mere presence in his life steadied him, made him more grounded, secure. He looked away from Travis when these thoughts occurred to him. While he was easily able to think them, he'd never be able to admit to them aloud. And never, ever could he in Travis' company.

The physical love they shared went far beyond a simple act of pleasure. Travis used these stolen moments to remind himself – and his partner – that Wes was a real person, one who thought and felt and hurt. Things that Wes couldn't ever show outside of that quiet spot in his makeshift bedroom. From Travis' pillow, Wes could admit to all these things – and more. Wanting a small house with a large yard, an herb garden, and a swing set in one corner. The desire for a dog, or maybe, someday, children. All the things he'd planned and hoped for and found crushed to dust beneath his epic mistake.

Travis gathered all this bits and pieces of his friend's admissions and stored them away for those long, lonely nights when it was him and the empty room. He'd take them out and sort them, matching like with like, trying to puzzle together a more intimate portrait of the man that was Wesley Mitchell. Wes, the human, the person, not the detective or the ex-lawyer. Just Wes.

He had to admit, he liked all these tidbits of information he was sharing with him. Pillow talk, it was called, and now he understood why. Travis could cuddle this pillow next to his partner and talk the night away. Or be happy just listening.

He hadn't realized he'd fallen asleep until his phone woke him. Alone in Travis' bed, Wes answered his phone, praying to whomever was listening that Alex bought his lies just one more time.

"Alex," he sighed.

"Wes," she said, suspicion lacing her voice, "where are you? Usually you call when you're going to be late."

He frowned at the ceiling, inwardly cursing himself for having let Travis' warm body seduce him again. "I know, honey, and I'm sorry. Travis –."

"Travis," she said, disbelieving. "You're going to blame this on Travis now?"

The sound of scuffling feet caused him to shift his gaze back towards earth. Wes looked down and met Travis' curious gaze, mouthing one word – Alex – that explained it all. "No, I'm not _blaming_ Travis, Alex, we were following a lead and got caught up in it." He cringed at the flimsiness of his excuse, knowing that a lawyer as sharp as his wife would see right through it.

"You swear you're with Travis," Alex queried. And then, more softly, "You're not having an – an affair?"

That she suspected hit Wes in the gut like an iron pipe. "I swear, I'm with Travis, Alex. Why would you think that I was having," here the word stuck in his throat. "What makes you believe I'd ever do that to you?"

Travis lifted a curious eyebrow, but remained silent.

"You want to talk to Travis? He's right here?" Wes looked in his direction, begging his partner with his eyes for any help he could give.

"Heeeey, Alex," Travis called in Wes' direction. "I'll get him home soon, I promise."

_Thank you_, he mouthed, receiving a playful wink in return. Wes watched Travis leave the bedside and depart for parts unknown, although the kitchen was most likely. Alex was speaking again, but he wasn't hearing her, the idea she'd picked up on their affair sitting at the forefront of his mental list of things to freak out about later.

"Look, Wes," she was saying now, "I know you'd never do anything so _pedestrian_ as cheat, but you have to admit, you've been acting oddly lately. Furtive almost."

He had to wonder if she was buying those word-a-day calendars again. "I'm sorry, Alex. This case has me stymied and we're at a loss for answers. I'll do better."

Wes figured even Travis could have heard the sigh if he'd still been in the room. "Wes, the only way you can do better is by giving up this idiotic pursuit of yours. Come back to the firm and get back to your life. Our life. What happened wasn't your fault and we both know it."

There wasn't anything he could say to that. He may have not been fully at fault, but he did fail and an innocent man went to jail because of it. Instead of telling her all this, she was quite well versed in his opinion on this matter, he simply told her he'd be home in an hour.

"So, I guess that means no dessert for us," Travis chirped from the kitchen.

"You heard that?" Wes rubbed his fingers against his eyes, attempting to erase the last few minutes from his memory.

"Look around you, man, how could I not?" Travis shuffled into the area that sufficed as a bedroom and sat by his partner's side. "You want to talk about it?"

He shook his head and then blurted, "She thinks I'm having an affair."

The smile on Travis' face fell. He had refused to think of what they had between them as an affair. Affairs were tawdry and cheap and _illicit_ and this – this wasn't any of that. This, it was right. Perfect. And, he had to admit, so very, very wrong.

On the other hand, he'd grown so much closer to Wes over the days since their first hook up that he couldn't deny it had been good for him. For them both. Wes had loosened up, opened up even. He was volunteering things he'd have normally kept under wraps, thinking outside his normal constraints. Travis, well, he knew he'd matured a bit as well. Started owning up to his mistakes, even if it was only the little ones for now. They'd become better partners, something akin to friends almost. So, in what realm of understanding was any of this wrong?

_In that realm where Wes was still married_, a voice inside him reminded. Travis pointedly ignored that stupid ass voice. What did it know anyway?

"Why does she think you're having an affair?" He reached for Wes' hand, but it was snatched out of his reach before he could grasp those delicate fingers.

"Apparently it's obvious, Marks," Wes snarled, pain and fear mixing in those blue depths he called eyes. "I have to go."

The 'if I want to save my marriage' was left unspoken, even though they both knew there wasn't anything left worth saving. Travis knew better than to say as much, however.

Lashing out at Travis would solve nothing, but hadn't been able to stop the words from stampeding out of his reckless mouth. Instead of apologizing like a rational person, he stormed out of Travis' trailer, leaving him alone on the edge of the bed. A piece of Wes broke off and stayed in that room with this man who had become more than just another detective he'd been assigned to work with. It was a delicate piece and he left it lying at Travis Marks' feet.

Not quite three quarters of the way back to his frigid home did Wes realize that this was the beginning of the end. He wasn't sure how he knew that it was all about to hit the fan, just that it undoubtedly was time that it all fell the hell apart. All he could think was _bring it on_.


	4. Chapter 4

"_How can I be reasonable? To me our love was everything and you were my whole life. It is not very pleasant to realize that to you it was only an episode." ― W. Somerset Maugham, The Painted Veil_

She hadn't planned on spying on her husband. Never had she been one of those women – the kind that needed constant reassurance of their love, their attention, their fidelity – and she refused to start now. But when she stepped out of her pricey sedan that morning, a spy is precisely what she became.

In his haste to get out of the house that morning, Wes had forgotten his wallet. Stumbling across it on the kitchen counter as she was leaving, it occurred to her that he might need it sometime during the day. As a partner, Travis was top notch. As a source of monetary favors, however, he was somewhat less stellar. Making an effort to ease the sting of their recent arguments, Alex decided to play the courteous wife and drop Wes' wallet off to him at the precinct on her way into the office, even though it put her quite a bit out of her way.

She needed to show him she was willing to make an effort if she expected him to make one after all.

"Can I help you," the youngish blonde at the security desk asked as Alex approached.

"I'm looking for Detective Mitchell," she stated.

"He and Detective Marks just left for coffee. They usually head to the cart over that way," the woman waved vaguely to the south, "when they get sick of the crap they serve us in here."

"Ah, thanks," Alex said, turning to leave the station and find her husband before he had to ask Travis to buy him a coffee.

Luckily, she knew the cart the officer had been referring to, having met Wes for a quick cup a time or two in between court appearances. She headed in the direction she knew it to be in and halfway there, pulled up short. Her keen eye had caught sight of Wes in her favorite suit – charcoal grey with a subtle pinstriping of ivory – and a smile formed on her face. Travis was, as usual, adorable in his beat up jeans and fitted t-shirt, even if it made him look more like Wes' suspect than his partner.

Feeling good about the upcoming encounter, Alex strode more purposefully towards the two men. She noticed Wes slipping a hand into a pocket, reaching for the missing wallet only to find it absent. Instantly, his other hand slipped into his remaining pocket and, not finding it there, either, he visibly deflated.

"Damnit," she heard him complain, even from this distance.

"Damnit," Wes growled, hands patting his pants, trying unsuccessfully to locate his wayward wallet.

"What's pissed you off already," Travis teased lightly, unsure of what had suddenly turned the tide of their previously low-key conversation.

"I can't find my wallet. I had it when I left the bathroom this morning and – oh. Shit. I left it in the kitchen." He looked at his partner, apologetic and a bit embarrassed. "Travis…"

Travis held up a hand, palm outward. "Say no more. I've got it." He dug out his own much battered wallet and pulled out some cash.

Wes took his drink from the barista and sipped. "Thanks, I'll pay you back tomorrow."

"Nope," he disagreed. "You buy my coffee every day and always refuse to let me return the favor. Today, I return the damn favor, so deal with it." He softened his jibe with a playful shove to Wes' shoulder.

Wes pushed him back. "I never said I was going to pay you in cash, did I?" His vibrant blue eyes met Travis' over the white plastic cup lid, hiding a suggestive smile behind the rim.

Travis started to make a sarcastic rebuke when the words sank into his caffeine deprived brain. "Oh. OH. In that case, can I buy you lunch, too?"

Alex stopped walking. She couldn't be sure what, but something important was happening before her eyes. The two detectives were walking away from the coffee cart now, but not heading towards the station like they should be. Instead, they were heading towards the stretch of grass and trees that acted as a makeshift park, pushing and shoving each other like siblings as they went.

Wes and Travis had always had an odd relationship that much was true. They loved each other and they hated each other, but somehow, they always made the job work. Currently, it seemed like they were on good terms, happy as they both seemed, but something wasn't quite right. They smiled a bit brighter and stood a bit closer. Wes watched Travis more intently as he spoke, and Travis seemed to give Wes' words more credence than he generally would.

Something had changed between them in a major way.

"Do you ever think about it," Travis asked.

"About what?" Wes knew what he meant, but he wanted to hear the other man say the words. He focused his attention on the well-worn path moving beneath his feet while he waited.

Travis sighed. "About us and what happened."

_Keeps happening,_ Wes clarified silently.

"I mean," he said, interrupting Wes before he could respond, "I get it. I knew all along that this couldn't ever be a real _thing_. And honestly, I can't say I wanted it to be _anything_ but what it was at the time."

"But?" The blond stopped walking, allowing Travis to move past him a handful of steps.

"But, maybe things have changed is all I'm saying."

Travis was saying much more than that, he could feel it in his partner's every move. He'd stopped walking, but he hadn't turned to face Wes. With fingers clenched around the paper coffee cup, Travis just stood there, waiting. For what? Most likely for the one thing Wes couldn't give him – a promise that twice wasn't enough.

"Of course I think about it," he said. And it was the truth. How could he not think about the fact that he'd slept with his partner not once, but twice. Was thinking of taking a chance on a third. "You've always had my back, Travis, but you've done so much more for me since Alex and I started having problems. I can't ever thank you enough for what you've done."

"Sounds like it's my turn to say, 'but'."

He looked away from the back of Travis' head, suddenly ashamed of himself. "But as much as I'm done with her games, her ultimatums, her goddamn insistence that I stop being a cop and become a lawyer again, I – I still love her, Travis."

Wes focused his attention back on his partner in time to see his shoulders slump in defeat. "Travis, I'm sorry…"

Spinning on the balls of his feet, Travis turned to face Wes, one hand held aloft to stop any further words. "I really want to yell at you right now, to rip you apart, but I can't. I _know _you love her, I knew it that first night, and I knew it that second night, even though you led me to believe otherwise. It's painfully clear to me now, too."

He was quiet, letting the words sink in. "So, to reiterate today's word of the day – but?"

"But nothing," Travis said a sigh heavy on his lips. "Just as long as we're okay."

"We're better than okay, Marks," Wes said.

"Good, because I need a hug."

A grin lit Travis' face when Wes held out his arms. He moved into them like he belonged there, like he had always rested in that warm circle of flesh and muscle and man. Wes held him tightly, saying with the strength of his embrace what he couldn't ever say with words – that he loved him, too, and more than ever, he needed him by his side. Praying that Travis could understand why he'd done what he'd done and why he couldn't let it continue. Although he knew it would, because he was helpless to tell Travis no.

Alex stood down the path watching her husband embrace his partner. She knew without a doubt that her instincts had been right – that Wes had been having a clandestine affair - but never in her lifetime would she have believed that it was with his partner. No, _never Travis_. Maybe one of those badge bunnies that hung around the station sometimes, or maybe even that new redheaded computer geek, but never him. Noticing the way Wes traced the tips of his fingers along the length of Travis' spine, how Travis arched into Wes' touch, she knew now that there wasn't any uncertainty.

Wes was sleeping with his partner.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't relieved to find the house empty when he'd arrived. After the insanity of the day – coupled with Travis' near confession (not to mention his near capitulation on the matter) – Wes wasn't in any mood to discuss the state of their marriage or anything else with Alex. All he wanted was two fingers of scotch on the rocks and a hot shower.

Pulling a crystal tumbler from the dry bar, he added ice from the freezer. He'd gotten as far as a hand on the bottle of Glenlivet when he heard the voice of the last person he wanted to see tonight. Alex.

"Wes," she said from the doorway, "we need to talk."

"About what?" Without turning to face her, he poured his measure of Scotch and waited. He had so many things he could confess to at that precise moment, that he wasn't even going to hazard a guess. Last thing he needed to do was give her more ammunition for the impending divorce.

Alex sidled up behind him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. He tensed beneath her touch, having learned not to trust it recently. "About a lot of things, Wes. Things like going back to practicing law, fixing our marriage and oh, the affair you seem to have been having with Travis. You know, little things."

Wes forced himself not to react, to take a deep breath and think his words through carefully before responding. Slowly, he took a sip of his Scotch, savoring the taste on his dry tongue. On impulse, he lifted the glass to his lips again and poured the remaining contents down his throat. The gentle burn of the high quality whiskey numbed the last of his doubts.

"What about my affair with Travis bothers you exactly?" He set the empty glass down on the bar top and turned to face her finally. "Is it because he's male or is it because I went to him instead of giving in to your insensitive demands?"

"Insensitive?" Alex shook her head. "No, Wes, it's because he's _Travis_. And last I checked, _we're still married_."

Lifting his hands up, palms outward, he looked at the ceiling as if searching for an answer. "You know what, we might still be _married_ but we haven't been a couple since I stopped being a lawyer and you know it. I needed a friend, because you sure haven't been one, and honestly? Travis is all I've got. How'd you even know?"

"That it was him?" She looked away, embarrassed. "I came by this morning to bring you your wallet." She pulled it out of her purse and handed it to him, watching as he shoved it into his pocket. "I saw you two at the coffee cart, playing like two kids in love. And then, I followed you into the park, curious. It was the hug you gave him that gave it away. You haven't hugged me like that in a very long time."

She'd spied on him, unintentionally at first, but then deliberately and that last part pissed him off. He pushed past her, his shoulder brushing her arm. "Where are you going," she demanded.

"Out," he snapped. "I can't do this right now."

Wes had left the dining room and entered the living room, stopping before looking back over his shoulder. "On second thought, I think I can do this. Tomorrow morning? File the petition because I'm done with this - us."

Miraculously, he managed to make it out of the house and into his vehicle before the truth overwhelmed him. Lost and confused, there was only one logical thing to do. He put the key in the ignition and drove off into the night.


	5. Chapter 5

_In the morning, that moment, when I knew it was you. When I could feel you breathing and we opened our eyes at the exact same time." ― Kate Chisman _

Travis awoke from a restless sleep to a pounding in his head. No, wait – someone was pounding on his door. Rubbing at his eyes, he attempted to focus on the time, currently 2:32 AM, and wondered who the hell could possibly be abusing his door so late.

"Travis," a weak voice said, "please, just open the door."

_Shit_. "Hold on Wes, I'm coming, man." Quickly snagging a shirt off the floor, he pulled it on and stumbled to the door, opening it wide.

Wes stood on the other side, pale and half-drunk. One hand rested on the wall beside the door, the other perched on his hip. He stared at the ground, probably trying to steady himself. The appearance of Travis' feet in his line of vision invited him to look up.

"I was afraid you weren't going to answer," he admitted, voice thin.

Travis didn't say a word, just reached out a hand and helped the wobbling detective up the stairs and inside his home. He pulled Wes' suit jacket off, tossing it onto the nearest flat surface before maneuvering his partner into a chair.

"Wes, baby, what's wrong?" Travis knelt by his side, taking a hand in his own. "You look like hell, talk to me."

The blond lifted his head and smiled faintly. "Gee, thanks, Marks. I love you, too."

The half-joking admission caught in Travis' chest. Taking a deep breath, he gave Wes' hand a squeeze. "Sorry, bad timing, but you do look pretty rough. You want some water?"

Wes shook his head slowly. "No, I'd love some more Scotch, but I'm afraid I've probably had four too many already."

He'd noticed. "About that… what is going on? And, not that I mind, but why are you on my doorstep in the middle of the night?"

"Steps," he said, giggling. "You have door _steps_, Travis." He giggled again, pitching forward slightly. Bracing himself with a hand on his knee, he managed to meet Travis' eyes. "Alex knows. About…"

_About us_. Wes didn't need to finish that sentence for him to understand what he was getting at. Or what it meant for his partner either. "And I'm afraid to ask how she knows."

Wes gave a derisive snort of laughter. "She was _suspicious_ and she was _spying_," he said.

Travis listened intently as Wes related the story of how Alex had spotted – and then followed – the two of them earlier that morning. At first, he figured it was merely a coincidence, but the more he listened, the angrier he got. He supposed he couldn't blame her, they _were_ having an affair, but she still violated Wes' – and his own – privacy.

"Man, I'm so sorry," he said once Wes had finished. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Can I borrow your couch tonight? Just until I can find somewhere to stay?" His eyes pleaded with Travis, breaking his heart in two. Wes really had nowhere else to go, did he?

"Hell no, you can't borrow my couch," he replied, standing quickly.

"No? But I figured…"

Travis interrupted. "You didn't let me finish. You can't borrow the couch because you're crazy if you think I'm letting you sleep anywhere but in my bed."

_That _finally made Wes smile.

His body came to life under Travis' touch that much he'd discovered. Even now, when he was simply toying with the blond hairs on his arm, the simple brush of his partner's fingers against his skin made life seem much better than it really was.

"How much time did you spend in the bar," he was asking, "before you came here?"

Wes thought about it, unsure he wanted to admit he'd spent several wasted hours getting drunk. When he realized he could have been here, in the understanding arms of his partner, he'd mentally kicked himself. But he was here now, and he was content to live in the moment while he could.

"Too long," he said. "Several hours at least. I had to get away from her and all that she wanted from me and now – now it's over."

Travis pulled Wes against him, trapping him within the safety of his embrace. "It might be over between the two of you, but not between us. We're only beginning." Nuzzling into the space between the blond's chin and shoulder, he placed a soft kiss on his skin. "If you still want me anyway."

Wes' heart lodged firmly in his throat, his emotions clogging his ability to speak. That Travis would even want to stay together after all he'd put him through amazed him. "Of course I still want you, Travis. You're the only reason I've made it this far. I need you."

"I need you, too," he murmured against Wes' neck. "I need you at work, I need you at dinner, I need you right here, in my bed, every single night for the rest of my life. You game?"

Wes laughed, a hearty, rumbling chuckle that filled the room. "Oh Travis, I think you're looking a little too far into the future – I'm not even divorced yet – but we can work on that."

Travis lifted his head and quirked an eyebrow in question. "We can work on your divorce?"

"No, you idiot, we can work on _us_. But maybe just a little at a time, if that's okay." To say he was gun-shy about getting seriously involved with someone the same night he left his wife would be an understatement. He wasn't lying next to just someone, however, he was curled up against the one and only Travis Marks, and that made a world of difference.

"So," Wes said, twisting the golden band still on his left ring finger. "Does this mean I can stay here, with you, until I can figure things out? Find a place to live even?"

Travis snuggled against Wes' side, reassuring him that he was welcome for the long haul. "Baby, you don't ever have to leave if you don't want to. You mean that much to me."

The sentiment swelled Wes' heart with affection for his partner, even if they both knew living in such close quarters, even for a short period of time, would land one of them in the pokey before long. Besides, Wes was used to a bit… fancier… accommodations. With leg room and an actual closet or two. But he wouldn't tell Travis that. "How about we work on that, too, hmm?"

Smiling, Travis got the subtle hint. "Okay, we'll make a list of all your issues we need to 'work on' and go from there. But right now? Baby, we got something else we need to work on."

"Oh?" Wes locked his eyes onto Travis', waiting. "Like what?"

"Like just how loud you can be during sex. Yanno, these muffled little noises just ain't doing it for me."

Before he could protest otherwise, Travis had him sprawled on his back, begging for mercy. Or maybe that was _more_? He wasn't quite certain. But he was certain that, for once, he had made the right choice. Leaving Alex and letting her deal with the fallout was the right thing and although being here, right now, might not be the smartest thing, it too, was perfectly right.

He knew that Wes wouldn't stay any longer than he had to. Despite the hurt waking up without Wes beside him inspired, Travis knew that it would be the only way for their personal relationship to survive the long haul. Let him cling when he needed to, but at all other times, give the boy as much space as he required. It was how he functioned and Travis could deal with that.

When that dreadful day came – seventeen days later – Travis held it together as best he could. Breaking down in front of Wes would be a huge mistake, and he refused to make it. Instead of thinking about his leaving, he focused on their plans – dinner tomorrow, a movie over the weekend, maybe some lazy lovemaking somewhere in-between.

"Thank you," Wes said, cupping Travis' face in his hands. "I'm going to miss this, but we'll figure it out, right?"

Travis nodded, unable to agree fully.

"Good." He kissed his partner's lips, gentle and hopeful. "I'll see you in the morning."

Again, Travis nodded, unable to speak until he'd vanished from his sight. "I'll miss you, too, Wes."

The hardest thing he'd done all day was waking up to an empty pillow beside him. After two weeks of Wes' constant companionship, it left him lonely and a bit lost. He'd pushed through it, the quiet, the despair, the thought of coming back and dealing with it all over again later, and gotten out of the house on time for once.

Travis shut and locked his trailer door, contemplating stopping for a quick donut before heading in to work. He'd just decided on doing just that – one glazed, one chocolate cake, and a Boston Cream for the road – when he spotted a very familiar SUV parked next to his motorcycle. Grinning, he double-timed it all the way to the passenger side door.

"Hey, you came for me," he said, climbing in beside his partner, cheerful and a touch surprised since his place was not on Wes' route to work. "You must really like me."

"Don't flatter yourself," Wes teased. "And don't read anything into the fact that there is coffee in the cup holder for you." He watched Travis reach for the paper cup, sipping gingerly until he'd gauged the temperature. "Oh, and the lady at the coffee shop gave me these, too. Thought you might like them."

Travis took the white paper bag out of his partner's hand. Looking inside, his face broke into an infectious grin, one that could not be contained. Tugging a donut out of the bag, he caught Wes' gaze. "Now this is proof, you really do like me."

Wes backed out of the spot and pulled onto the street. "You're right, Marks. I really do like you."

"Good," he said around a mouthful of chocolate glazed donut, "because you're not getting rid of me. Ever."

Smiling contentedly, Wes drove on.


End file.
